Phantom: A Retelling
by Luckii.jinx
Summary: A timeless love is put to the test when fate tears two lovers apart. When decisions need to be made, will the price be too high? Or does love truly conquer all? [Novel length, Eventual EC]
1. The Prelude

**This will be a complete novel length Phantom Phic. Hoping to go into great detail and there will be angst. Now why am I starting a new phic when A Smile More Beautiful Than Song is still far from completion? It's called inspiration! Hope you like this one, and R&R!**

_Perhaps some things are left better hidden within the depths of the mind. However, I cannot help but feel great relief at the removal of this great burden. I can only hope that my secrets will be forever contained within these soft, leather-bound pages. _

_I hope that now I can at last be released from the grasp of the past. Never to forget, No! Never that. Only to be given peace, to have the strength to move on, to have the will to halter the longing that I felt—feel and to replace the raging fire that once roared within my soul with a warm, kindling, flame. _

_Although the sky is still dark, I know that soon the soft corals of pink and tangerine will slowly penetrate my window. Yet instead of feeling the panic that had consumed me mere hours before I had revealed my secrets to you darling diary, I now only feel silent resignation and acceptance of my fate. I believe I can bear to face it now…_

_We were perfection. Perfection is like the blue moon. It happens once, if ever, in a lifetime, but when the stars align and the gods in heaven smile down upon us, our beauty is unrivaled by any other. Yet the beauty of the blue moon is brief, and it graces the nighttime sky for only the shortest of moments. _

_Perfection was not meant for this world…_

_Christine Daae, 1919_


	2. The Union

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Erik—just plot and any characters you don't recognize…Well not even the bits of plot that you will recognize when the realllll story starts. –huffs- **

**A/N: Anyways, Chapter two is FINALLY up! It took a lot longer than I expected, and I lost count of how many times I changed this. Also, it was my birthday Friday, so I was kinda busy. **

**Eternal Thanks to: dark-hearted rose, speedy56, and KyrieofAccender for their wonderful reviews! Oh, and about A Smile More Beautiful Than Song, I'm working on that too, but this one has taken up the last couple of days… Hope you like chapter 2, and REVIEWWWW! Happy Reading.**

Xxx

_He left as a shadow before the skies were of aquamarine and sewn with golden threads of light…_

Xxx

"Mademoiselle! You must hurry! The Vicomte will soon be awaiting you in his grand carriage! You mustn't be late today of all days!" The middle aged and homely maid burst into the room and was about to continue her improvisational speech, until she was immobilized by the scene before her.

There was her beautiful young mistress, hair and attire disheveled. She was facing the window and silent tears were running from her eyes; two coursing rivers upon the perfect and pale face. The streams sparkled and winked on her cheeks, catching the brilliant rays of early sunlight. Her gaze distant—seemingly witnessing a fantasy playing itself out far away. Stepping closer, the maid saw Mistress's hands clutched desperately upon a lovely rose—the most beautiful she had ever seen, and her fingers were wrapped and entwined upon a black silken ribbon.

There was something strangely beautiful in about the scene before her—for in spite of the rumpled hair and mussed gown she could not help but think that no other had ever looked more in mirror with a fallen angel…

Snapping out of her admiring trance, the maid called urgently, "Mademoiselle—Christine!"

There was no response and another attempt was made, in vain. Growing increasingly worried with Christine's inert state, she cautiously extended a frail arm upon Christine's shoulder.

The touch seemed to break the spell, and Christine tilted her head lightly and softly whispered, "Yes…Thank you…"

Rather unnerved and not wanting to bring up the subject of her Mistress's strange trance she asked with an air of feigned cheeriness, "Why mademoiselle, the rose is simply lovely; I've never seen one quite so perfect. It looks as if you plucked it straight from an artist's freshly painted canvas. Wherever did you get it?"

Not catching her maid's bright tone nor meeting her inquisitive gaze, Christine nodded and replied distantly--tears still falling, "Yes Amee--all the roses from his canvas are perfect…Always…"

Noticing the still wandering eyes and hesitant movements in addition to usage of her pet name, Amee dropped all formal pretenses, firmly wiped away the tears and said sternly, "Now Christine m'dear. I don't know what nonsense you're prattling on about, but you must get dressed! We mustn't keep the Vicomte from his lovely bride on his wedding day now—can we?"

Emitting a burst of anguish at her words, Christine threw herself into Amee's arms and whispered passionately, "I do not want to wed the Vicomte! How can I share with him the most intimate of things when my heart beats—no burns! For another? I will not! I will run away for love of him! Oh, my body aches for another—screams for his touch…his caress…"

Realizing the words that had just been exhaled, Christine blushed furiously and looked away, gathering her composure.

"My apologies—I will be dressed in a moment's time. You must excuse my appalling words, for I was not in my right state of mind."

Amee gave a small obeisance and silent nod—following her Mistress's once again formal example, and departed quickly from the room, shocked.

Xxx

It seemed that all of Paris was present that night. The guests arrived in a steady wave clad in all their elegant finery. Even the rich aristocrats and their simpering ladies gasped at the elaborate decor as they entered the grand chapel. Thousands of tiny and sparkling fairy lights had been strung on the walls and pews. Lilies were arranged on every available surface and silver dust coated the carpeted floor.

It was common knowledge that the young Vicomte would spare no expense for his young bride—supposedly a long lost childhood sweetheart. She had recently made a phenomenal debut on the famous Parisian stage, and became overnight, the prime envy of ladies as well as a sought after trophy for gentlemen.

There was never a contest for the gentlemen…They said she was the Vicomte's from the start, and many jealous ladies had cast vindictive whispers of a rumored and shadowed affair with the infamous Opera Ghost when it was made public that the young diva and the prized steed of nobility were to wed.

"_Such a young and handsome man wasted on an Opera harlot_," said the whispers.

"_She's not even pure,_" were the hissed words.

Xxx

"Why Mademoiselle—you look simply breathtaking!" Amee clapped her hands joyously and adjusted a misplaced curl with motherly affection.

Christine nodded mutely as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror.

_Beauty means nothing to me anymore…_

Xxx

The attendants of the reception were beginning to grow restless. Programs crinkled as feet and whispers began to permeate the chapel. As the guests began to turn towards each other and engage in quiet conversation, it seemed no one noticed a cloaked figure glide soundlessly onto the choir balcony…

At last! The organ began the all familiar tune that joins two beings for a lifetime…

The breath was caught in the throat of all guests as the bride made her entrance. The image of perfection was before them in a pale pink gown trimmed with silver. Pearls, diamonds—delicate baubles that sparkled and shone with every movement, graced the pale throat and wrists. All eyes were on the slim figure hugged by an elaborately jeweled bodice and gown made from endless yards of satin, lace, and silk. Brown curls peeked out from beneath the light veil and a beautiful bouquet of lilies completed the image.

As she made her way down the aisle—attendants completely in awe, another figure leaned over the railing from above as his breath came short…

Xxx

The wedding was one never forgotten among Parisian royalty. For although none in attendance could place their finger upon the oddity, all agreed that the wedding was the strangest they had ever witnessed.

Some say that as the Vicomte removed the veil from his young bride, her cheeks sparkled with tears bright as jewels, and others insisted that her full pink lips were coldly brief with the engaging kiss. Some claim that the bride had mouthed a few fervent words before priest had enlisted the vows, and most the rest announced that she had gazed longingly upward during the entirety of the priest's speech—towards the heavens they say…And the final few swore that the bride placed the ring upon her own finger. What all agreed upon however, was the ethereal tune that enveloped the chapel upon the joining kiss…

In truth, they were all correct, and though they do not know it, there were two in attendance that night who knew the true events. One being the bride herself—object of all attentions, and the other a mere shadow—unseen by all but one…

Excluding the two prior mentioned, it seemed that no others noticed the single blood red rose nestled at the very center of the bride's bouquet—the only rose present throughout the chapel in fact. Nor did they notice that the ring slipped onto the bride's finger was a simple gold band, not the elaborate bauble that had been the prize display of the most renowned jewelry store in all of France until the Vicomte had made it known that it was to rest forever on his bride's hand…

Xxx

_Your body may belong to another, but your soul is forever bound to mine._

_Though you are chained for a lifetime; death will set your spirit free._

_We may be parted now, but it matters naught._

_For our love crosses every border, spans all time…_

_And we will once again be united in perfect harmony,_

_In a place called eternity…_

Xxx

**A/N: Whew! That was HARDDD to write. I hope it was good, and I know it doesn't connect with the Prelude, but it will all make sense later! REVIEWWWW PLEAAASEEEE? I need to know if I'm doing this right lol. Just clicky that little button………….**


	3. So It Begins

**DISCLAIMER: Erik is not mine. However, the dvd, cd, book…..ITS ALL MINE. –laughs manically- errr. –Ahem- right. **

**A/N: Wow. I got a lot of really positive reviews for the last chapter. –bows- I hope this one is as good..hehheh… It was a bit less difficult to write, and only the one section was really hard. Not bad…lol. Okay, I'd now like to thank my AWESOME reviewers..who mean the world to me…Miss Ewelina, HDK, OperaStar4Life, dark-hearted rose, Operatastic SuperSop, Angelicerik12, speedy56, KyrieofAccender, and Froogle Boogle. I hope I got everyone…Don't hesitate to drop me a PM if I missed you. **

**This was a really fun chapter to write, and personally, my favorite bit is at the end where…we'll you'll see! Haha.**

**Okay Happy Reading!! And REVIEW PLEASEEE? Lol.**

Xxx

_No shadows haunt the realms of darkness, for there can be no shadows if there is no light…_

Xxx

A tall, cloaked figure swiftly made its way though dusky Paris streets. By the dim lamps, the scarce passerby would only recognize another rushed man like himself, eager to return to a warm fire and lighted home…

Xxx

Upon approaching the magnificent building quite commonly recognized as the Paris Opera House, I ducked around the young, wandering, nighttime couples as they gazed adoringly at each other, no doubt oblivious to all—save their lover's eyes. There was not a performance scheduled for the evening, and I was able to make my way around toward the grand entrance unnoticed.

I reached my home—if you dared call it such, for most men do not dwell in the cellars of an Opera House!—at a relatively quick pace and was eager to set about a task that I had been yearning to start since dawn. I could swear that the raging curiosity I had so ardently kept at bay was burning its way through my soul…

Xxx

_Such a little book…Yet, within the bound pages, lays the key to three hearts…_

Xxx

Erik settled himself comfortably into an ornate chair and drew a quick breath—simultaneously with a small diary from the gentle folds of his cloak. The contours were all too familiar, for they had been meticulously produced by his own hand. It was a small—made to fit snugly between dainty palms, and bound with the finest black leather. A single word was embroidered painstakingly upon the cover in thin, gold thread. '_Diary_', it read, accompanied by a delicately sewn rose underneath.

A faint sigh escaped Erik's lips as he reverently opened the gilt trimmed cover, preparing himself to read words that were undoubtedly never meant to be read. As he began to engulf himself in the contents, he shockingly realized that he was very well acquainted with the story—for **it was his own. **

Xxx

_My name is Christine Daae, and I am to be married with the rise of the sun. I write this for what reason I cannot seem to comprehend, but the sleep that I so desire will not grant me its shelter. It has been this way for three weeks now; three weeks of torment and restlessness. Sleep being ever elusive, I have finally set out to do what I had promised myself I would not: Reveal my secrets in this diary. _

_For you see, so long as my secrets are sheltered within my breast, no living mortal may find them. It is the lone place of hiding that the rest of the world may never hope to touch. To write is to reveal, and to reveal may mean to end all, for no secret is as great or as dark as the one I carry._

_Yet I continue to write, my hand seemingly guided by an unknown force. I suppose the reason I do not tear this page out and throw to the fire—as I should, is the reprise that I hope to find with the completion of my story. I suppose, however, that it is unjust to selfishly claim this tale as mine alone, for countless other souls have had their lives inevitably entwined as well…_

_I feel as though I have shouldered this burden for far too long, and it is seeking blessed release. I can contain it no longer, for it will drive me mad. Perhaps if I let it live freely within the bound pages of this little black book the memories will cease to haunt me. Perhaps, I can finally lock away the past and start my future that inevitably will come with the new dawn. _

_The part of my past that I am about to disclose has never haunted me before; on the contrary, whist I was living it, I daresay that it was the most joyous period of my brief seventeen years—in fact, I still believe so! Yet now that those moments have deserted me, I am bound to a cold and bleak future that holds no warmth... _

_I must stop prattling on, for otherwise I shall squander away the few hours that yet remain dear to me! _

_**So it begins…**_

_I shall attempt to relate to you the greatest tale there ever was...there will be no lies, for the truth is far more extraordinary than any tale that the mind can spin...and to think that I had the privilege to hear these words for my very own… _

_Though the horrors great, and tears many, I hold this as one of my most treasured memories… for it was only through this tale that I began to understand…truly begin to see…_

Xxx

Erik's vision blurred as he turned the page. He knew now what this would ultimately amount to...reliving of a lifetime of unwanted memories. His mind screamed—to halt the torture, yet within his mind was firm acknowledgement that there was no turning back now…

Oh! Why was he accursed with such powers of memory! Every moment since he had drawn breath remained a shard of glass—perfectly clear. Each shard was forever piercing his mind, body, and soul in torturous agony…

Xxx

Christine pressed her forehead to the cool glass as she gazed at the blanket of twinkling stars. Each star grew in magnification as she felt familiar pools gather in her eyes. Feeling the streaming overflow upon her cheeks, she whispered softly…

_Once upon a time…_

_A man with moonlight in his eyes…_

_Put his hand in mine and said he loved me so…_

_He spun me a fantasy, wove me a palace of dreams…_

_But that was once upon a time…so very long ago…_

Xxx

_And in a palace of darkness, the lone prince of night relives his journey…unaware that he had begun to seal his own fate._

Xxx

**Whew. I actually got this chapter done sooner than I thought I would. –happy dance- I hope this was up to par with the last one. –bites nails nervously- and please Review! I love reviews…almost as much as Phantom…**

**Oh, and the Christine bit… I was inspired by a song we're doing in chorale…woot.**


	4. Innocence and Regrets

**DISCLAIMER: Eriknot mine, but will be ;)**

**A/N: Sorry it took a bit longer to update this time, but this chappy had quite a few kinks that needed to be worked out. A HUGE thanks to KyrieofAccender for being my beta for this chappy, you were awesome! (I hope I changed everything, but some punctuation got messed up, so I hope it's okay…) I'm also looking for a long time beta, so if anyone's interested……..**

**Thanks for everyone that gave me amazing reviews for the last chapter: IceCrystalline, Operastar4life, Broken-vow, Miss Ewelina, Operatastic Supersop, KyrieofAccender, speedy56, Lonesomegurlangelofdeath, dark-hearted rose, and HDKingsbury (who's review sadly didn't make it on the site, but oh well!)**

**So Happy Reading, and Review! (please?)**

**Xxx**

_In this castle of night, I draw apart every curtain, yet cannot entice the light…_

Xxx

Christine watched as her breath fogged the window in small clouds. It seemed an eternity that she had been standing, watching the stars slowly emerge with each passing minute adding another twinkle to the darkening sky.

_I wonder where tonight finds him…_

_I pray he is safe…_

A click of the door from behind roused the moonlit maiden and she turned to see the Vicomte—Raoul de Chagny, emerge. Gone was the tailored suit from the evening's wedding celebrations and with it, the political propriety that had kept him at bay during those hours. Before she had time to react, Raoul's soft arms were around her waist and his lips gently insistent upon her own.

Laughing softly, he whispered, "It's our wedding night, Little Lotte. Allow me give you a gift that you shall never forget…"

Xxx

His arms encircled my waist and I felt myself raised from the ground. With his lips nuzzling my collarbone and shoulders, I was carried gently to the grand bed that adorned the center of the room. The kisses and caresses were warm and exploring, yet I could not help but recall the burning testaments of another that had left a trail of fire in their wake…

Innocence departed two that night. I could not help but feel the clashing variance with Raoul—gone was the desperate longing, the aching need. It was a simpler kind of pleasure—light and gentle, yet in a way, fabricated. When he lovingly enveloped me in his arms afterwards, there was the greatest desire to draw away. Yet for his sake, I did not.

Xxx

That night, Christine and I were joined as never before. I will shamefully admit during brief times of solitude that I had doubted her purity before the moment of our union—yet how could I not? There were the rumors…

However, all my prayers were answered, for I knew then that she belonged to no one but I.

Xxx

I believe I awoke far past midnight—the darkness and silence from the maid's corridors verified my thoughts. At first, I could not place what had roused me from my slumber. It was not until I felt the wetness on my cheeks that I realized there were tears silently streaming from my eyes.

I was suddenly weighted by a great sadness, yet did not know why. It was not be Raoul's fault. Poor, sweet, darling Raoul! All he every wanted was my happiness. Yet how could he know of the war that raged within me?

He would never know the darkest depths of life—and I could not explain. What words could describe the aching sorrow, nameless desire, or divine joy? The lone man that could evoke with one syllable what an infinite kisses from another could not was parted from me for a lifetime.

And then, I knew why I wept. I had waited so long; I had always believed my first time would be with Erik.

Xxx

It seemed impossible to Erik that such a small, seemingly insignificant item should hold such a profusion of emotions. A lifetime written in ink lived within the pages—his lifetime; as told through the eyes of his own angel on earth…

Xxx

_Erik spoke to me of his childhood first—as one would expect to hear in a life's story. Yet contrary to most, pain flickered in the eyes before me as anguished memories resurfaced. Sighing deeply, he began softly, barely audible, "I suppose you shall have the privilege of becoming acquainted with my parents at last…"_

Xxx

Madeline was a beautiful child. Pale skin, bouncing brown curls, and sparkling green eyes coupled with a pair of alternately laughing and pouting cupid lips granted her every whim. Her father was wealthy. Wealthy and always away from home—business, foreign affairs, and no doubt other women, occupied the time away from his wife and young daughter. He adored 'Little Mattie' and hoped to make up in lavish gifts what was missed in fatherly guidance.

Her mother was ethereally beautiful—and impossibly vain, choosing to spend life chasing the latest fashions and gossip. Thus, Madeline spent most of her childhood under the care of a nanny, who was instructed to treat her charge as a young princess.

As Madeline reached courting age, she was quite the prize. Her pale skin was as soft and unblemished as a newborn's—untarnished by a single day's work. The brown curls had lightened to golden amber and fell in soft ringlets over slim shoulders. Her green eyes had retained their vitality and were softened by dark lashes. An ample bosom and slim figure completed the picture...

Xxx

I still remember the day I first set sights upon him. I was out for a walk—wanting to flaunt my new gown you see, and had stopped for a bite at the corner teashop. As I was focusing upon my crème scone and lemon tea, I could not help but notice the most dashing man staring fixedly at a set of papers upon the table before him. I must admit that I abandoned my small luncheon immediately and began to flirt shamelessly with him…

He was even more handsome upon closer view! Black hair, a strong jaw line, tanned skin, and the most fixing set of green eyes had me breathless. His name was Charles as I learned; he was young—he couldn't have been three years my senior—and an architect by the looks of the diagrams he had been studying.

I played all my charms to the utmost, drawing him in, though I'm not sure which one of us was more transfixed. He asked for my hand in marriage after a mere sixth months, and my father obliged graciously as I knew he would—for he had never been one to deny even the faintest of my wishes…

Xxx

Madeline and I were deliriously joyful those first few months after marriage. She was beautiful, and we were both hopelessly enwrapped in Love's waltz. The only Other that I had eyes for was Architecture, and it was between these two daunting Mistresses that I would spend my hours—Worshipping Architecture and losing myself in her stone embrace during daylight, and returning to Madeline's caresses and kisses whilst all the world slept.

If only you could imagine the joy that swelled within my chest the day Madeline told me with sparkling eyes that we would be blessed with a child! My exuberance must have permeated the household, and I daresay that even the servants were more joyous in their tasks.

"A boy or girl Charles? What do you think it will be?" Madeline murmured these words laughingly against my lips as I bent to give her a teasingly chaste kiss.

"A boy, although I would not mind a girl in the slightest." I patted her stomach fondly and added as hindsight, "As long as the little beast is healthy, I will be the happiest father alive." A barely muffled gasp reached my ears, and I turned to see Marie, our oldest housekeeper, with a comically horrified expression on her features.

"I do not believe it wise Monsieur, to speak of the unborn in such a crude fashion. The Lord hears all they say…" Still appearing shocked, she made haste in departing the room.

I laughed good-naturedly, and wrapped a protective arm around Madeline's waist and whispered jokingly, "I will love our child—beast or not."

I was not worried in the least and forgot her condemnation in the following months.

_After all, Marie had always been superstitious…_

Xxx

**Tada. I hope the different points of view weren't too confusing—Leave your feedback, and Review! I hope you liked it. Next update should be Friday if everything goes as planned…**


	5. My Realm for the Sky

**Disclaimer: Don't own it. Just holding it hostage for now. )**

**Alrighty, here's Chapter 5. Sorry for the delay, but this chapter was a hard one. I didn't want to make it too long, but I wanted to get the feelings across. Hope this final version is alright. There's no Erik in this one (sorry, he's in the next one, I promise!) and taking the advice of multiple reviewers, the POV's with labels so hopefully it won't be as confusing anymore.**

** Thanks again to all my super favorite reviewers that make my day: the-phangirl-of-the-opera, HDKingsbury, LonesomeGurlAngelofDeath, Operatastic Supersop, Miss Ewelina, dark-hearted rose, Rhythmrains, Silvertounge, KyrieofAccender, Broken-Vow, and speedy56.**

**An extra large thanks to my beta dark-hearted rose, who is amazing. Go read her story Ripped Jeans. Because I insist. She's a wonderful writer, really. She even left you guys a little note:  
**

**Beta's note: I take fully responsibility for the delay, good readers! She had this done and sent off to me by the 28th of February, but I wasn't able to go over it until recently. Please file any and all complaints with me, the lousy beta-reader. Thanks!**

**--- **

_Until we meet again, may the sun always shine and my kiss always stay upon your lips…_

_-Madeline-_

The sun had never been so warm, the faint breezes never so relished. Every night I was willing to swear an oath that the stars had never sparkled brighter. It was in this heightened realm of reality that I lived—blissfully happy for the nine months in which the creation Charles and I had made grew within me.

Of course, as summer approached and the months lengthened with the days, my abdomen grew. Yet, however strange it may seem, I was never once tainted with the common pre-maternal frivolities that plagued other women. The dreaded morning illness never came, and the only discomfort I felt was the most singularly strange sensation our unborn child's surprisingly strong kicks. This filled me with an inexplicable pride, and I can still retain the image of Charles laughingly placing a gentle hand on my stomach.

It soon came to the point at which I knew our child was to be due within a matter of days. Charles absolutely spoiled me then, bringing home the finest delicacies he could conjure from the local shops after the working hours and ensuring that I was in the utmost comfort at all times.

Even the servants were all a titter with excitement and kept me in high spirits with their animated chatter—save for Marie. The old woman—I can't imagine why Charles kept her, for she must have been over five and sixty—paced the estate ominously and restlessly. She would take no part in the games of our other servants, refusing to guess the unborn child's color of hair or eyes. I dismissed her actions as irrelevant at the time, but I soon came to hate her…

_-Charles- _

Madeline's beauty only furthered with each passing day and I had never seen her happier. I could not help but glow with fatherly pride when I held her intimately during dark's reigning hours, feeling her changing body pressed reassuringly into mine.

One day, midsummer, Madeline joyously told me that our child would be born within several days—she said this with such confidence that I did not doubt her in the least. I was sure to provide her with all her heart desired and more to guarantee her comfort and bliss; there was nothing of more importance to I than the health and well-being of Madeline and our forthcoming angel. For the result of an immortal love great as ours could only fashion a creation that was not of this world—our little angel would be special…

_-Madeline-_

June 13th, 1883—the figure was forever etched in my mind and memory. It marks the moment that my life was to take the most unveiling turn as I finally fell from favor from God's hand. Naught could have prepared me for the horrors of the day; I still live the consequences…

I strongly recall waking in the midst of the predawn morning and experiencing slow convulsions in my abdomen. While not acutely discomforting, my rounded mid-section seemed to pulse with an independent life. It was then that I knew that today I would meet my first child.

-_Charles_-

Madeline kissed me awkwardly and laughingly, not being able to quite keep her balance with the now glaringly prominent child that was ready to breathe life.

"Could you possibly leave the site a bit early today Charles? Just in case…I'm almost quite certain…tonight…" Her eyes sparkled while she whispered the words to me excitedly—yet I could see an underlying fear as well.

Feeling strangely protective, I immediately gave my affirmative and assured her that I would return by midday. The other workers could manage for a few hours, I was sure…

-_Madeline_-

Amidst strong protests that I should be in repose, my body would not calm, and I could not quell the sudden, nerve wracking fear that had flared in my breast. I paced the corridors of my home restlessly, and failed at attempting to still my racing heart. This was not a commonplace fear, oh no! What threatened to envelope me was dark, sinister. I could only recall my sudden, aching want to hear Charles' reassuring whispers in my hair and to feel his arms comfortingly wrapped around my waist. For with him by my side, I could fight the worst demons and the darkest evils…

With him by my side…

_-X-_

Midmorning, a single pained cry was heard, followed by an anguished shout from the far end of the site. Then there was silence. Quickly, the men made their way toward the voices. Small accidents were commonplace in the business, yet this set of despairing cries echoed infinitely more ominously against the unpolished wood and stone.

The men conversed lightly as their hands left their tasks to investigate. As the workers neared the accident, breaths caught and chills ran down their spines. All were in stunned silence. No—surely this could not be happening! Their dashing leader—! The thick black hair, the built frame, it was unmistakable. Yet his visage, ghostly pale, and the moans that were escaping his lips without mastery, this was foreign. At a closer glance, what could only be blood had begun to stain his shirt, leaving bright red bursts of pain inked across his chest.

The other figure, a young fellow, seeing his companions-in-toil approach, raised a tear- and dirt-stained face and burst forth with a strangled cry, "Monsieur Charles is badly wounded…His upper trunk was crushed…Told me he wanted to show me the view…saved me…"

The youth moved quietly out of the way as an older man made to inspect the injury. After nodding assent to the young one's words, he added softly, "Our Mister here won't walk out of this one…may the gates of our Lord be open to him."

It was then that Charles spoke disconcertedly with a definite haze in his eyes. "Madeline…I promised her…"

The older man bent down and grasped his employer's hand. "We'll get you to your ladylove, Mister, if it's the last thing we here do." Charles was seen to nod and then his eyes closed.

_-Madeline-_

They came here with Charles. My beloved Charles—they had dared to bring him in such a state! Why was there no one present save for the scoundrel youth? I daresay I lay the blame for the death of my love on the wretched boy!

The story amongst the workers as they came in their dirt and dust was that Charles had wanted to show the boy the view from the tallest scaffolding. As the boy walked along the wooden planks, a support beam had snapped, setting off a crumbling block of granite that they had meant to replace. Charles had dived in…pushing the boy out of harm's way—sacrificing himself…

Sacrificing me! He knew I could not live without him! And there, in the presence of all my servants and Charles' men—I gave anguished sobs that no one could quell for the one that could had left me…or soon would…

I grasped his hand and fumbled with my arms around his neck, wanting to bring him back. I kissed him again and again, wanting to breathe life into his lips. My small fists ineffectively pounded his chest—still taught with muscle, wanting to punish him for leaving me. I shook his shoulders and cried his name, but the faint pulse only grew weaker.

There were comforting arms around me, servants and workers mourning together the man that had been so kind, so handsome, so young, so good. It was then, when there was not a face left unwashed in tears and we all believed him truly gone, that the cold hands I still held tightly in mine squeezed in the slightest.

We all listened and watched, amazed, as he opened his eyes and spoke quite lucidly in rasping breath. "Madeline… My darling Madeline, do not weep. I do not wish for my last act on this world to be shedding your tears. It was not the boy's fault—you must know that. I promised I would return and be with you when our child was born. I still shall. My spirit shall live within you, within our unborn angel. Love him Madeline; love him for the both of us. Treat him as a little Prince, and, for me, if nothing else, love him with all your heart. Don't cry, my love, I'll see you again one day… And remember, I love you…"

His voice became inaudible, and his eyes closed. I watched, in agonizing sadness, as Charles brought my hand, still tangled with his, to his lips a final time.

Then, all was black.

-_Christine_-

I gazed out the window—I found this was becoming a habit of mine as I continued to dwell restlessly in my new home. Today, though, I saw a beautiful bird that was most unusual. The feathers that covered its graceful body were pure white, save for delicate blue-tipped wings. As I continued to observe, it began deftly forming the frame of a nest in the young sapling that grew just outside, weaving twigs and leaves together in a way even the most skilled basket-weavers could only hope to match. I watched in fascination as she continued to build, pulling soft down from her own body to furnish the little home. _Imagine such poverty, _I thought_, that one must pluck from one's own body to build one's home and shelter._ I then turned away from the window and gazed a little guiltily at the woven tapestries, the inlaid-ivory desk, and the tasseled embroidery table covers that adorned my quarters.

I always spent a little time each day watching my little songbird as the days passed, enjoying the beautiful tunes that would sometimes permeate my room, and I always kept an eye out for its mate, though I never saw him.

By week's end there were three specked eggs in the nest. To me, they seemed to sparkle as splendidly as gems on the dullest of days. At last, I caught a few glimpses that day of my bird's mate. He was breathtakingly stunning, and I laughed quietly to myself for doting on a bird. He was quite the opposite of her, being completely black. Yet, when he flew, my breath stopped, and I watched as his feathers danced and twirled in the air in a most captivating dance.

I thought, I am a Vicomtess, with all I could ever desire placed on silver platters at my feet. Yet, for one fleeting moment, I wished I could trade places with this beautiful creature, free to wheel through the skies and be forever rich in ways I could not even begin to imagine. I shall not lie, and I know I shall return to this thought again and again.

Would I trade my title for wings, my palace for a nest, and my realm for the sky?

---

**Tada. Hope you like. Now review, because I know plenty of you are reading! Or maybe I just won't update for months and months and months...-walks away smirking- **


	6. Final Glance and First Cry

**A/N: Sorry for the REALLY extraordinarily long delay. You know, I really didn't MEAN it when I said I wouldn't update for months and months last time...it's been a couple of weeks, but I hope you like it. A little different than the traditional…scene… Hope it's interesting. **

** Thanks as usual to my amazing beta who I couldn't live without—dark-hearted rose. Go read her stuff! **

**Thanks also to HD and Kyrie for helping me post this chapter seeing as the document manager is down!**

Thanks to my favorite people: REVIEWERS! IceCrystalline, Evelyn Stone, Operatastic Supersop, KyrieofAccender, speedy56, Miss Ewelina, dark-hearted rose, and Broken-vow 

** Thus without further ado… **

**Xxx **

_All these glittering baubles fade in comparison to the light in your eyes… _

_-Madeline-_

For immeasurable hours, my world was swathed completely in darkness and frigidity. After Charles had left me, my body grew still and my mind numb. I could hear, distantly, the quiet murmurings and hushed whispers of foreign voices—voices by tone which I determined expressed sorrow and grief. Yet their sorrow paled to nothing when compared to mine.

After a strained moment of sudden silence, a pinpoint of light appeared to me in the darkness. It glowed and flickered like a taunting candle and grew a bit larger as I reached out towards it. This movement caused a slight pull in my abdomen, yet I ignored it, longing to reach the distant flame. I reached again, and it grew slightly. I redoubled my efforts, and when the light had expanded to the size of my hand I began to feel slight warmth as well. As I drew closer, my eyes were forced to blink more rapidly and squint at the glowing light. I was bathed in a beautiful warmth that continued to pluck the muscles in my abdomen, not uncomfortably, rather making me laugh.

At last, when I was facing the light—it turned out not to be a candle after all; rather, it appeared a passage, beckoning me with glowing white lights and heavenly sounds and scents. In a sudden instant, I felt the most driving urge to step through, yet could not. I was frozen in this position with my heart torn...until a silhouette began to take form as well. Walking towards me was a tall, imposing figure—one who's gait and chiseled chin I would recognize anywhere.

Charles!

I opened my lips to speak, but no sound came. My darling love smiled as he finally stood before me, restored once more to masculine perfection. Gone were the wrinkles that had begun to form around his eyes and the soft streaks of gray that danced near his ears. His skin was gloriously smooth and flawlessly bronze—he was more beautiful than I had ever seen, more so even than on our wedding night.

I parted my lips again, yet he placed a gentle finger upon my mouth, and began to speak.

_My darling love… _

Oh! The sound of his voice—changed forever by death. How heavenly it was! With the utterance of those few syllables I was swept into waves upon waves of utmost pleasure. Harmonious chords seemed to reverberate beautifully with his every breath. So this was the sound of the angels…

_-Charles- _

Never doubt that there is a God. For with my death, I lived to know of Him. He is kinder than most would give Him credit for in their time of need or loss, yet He is there. He is forever merciful, for He managed in a mystic way to stall the time before mine and Madeline's mortal parting. He granted me a few drops of precious time from His holy flask, and with this I took His blessing and granted it upon my soon-to-be-born child.

_-Madeline- _

Charles stayed with me for a few moments—long enough to whisper promises of eternity in my ears, to run his hand through my hair. Yet the sweetest of all things must end, and when our time was due, he brought his lips to mine, and it seemed then that he breathed in my soul a bright and burning jewel of hope.

His last words were thus: "Madeline, He grants you a painless childbirth, but not a painless motherhood. Yet, should you overcome the burden, we shall be reunited in every way one day."

I watched then, suspended before the barrier of light—it was a barrier now, as Charles walked away from me, looking back all the while. His strides grew longer and as he drew away, wings began to grow upon his back. They unfolded to a magnificent size of impossible beauty, and with a parting wave, he was gone in a blinding flash of light.

When my eyes cleared, I was once more in my chambers…

I was surrounded by handmaids and servants dressed hastily in black. This allegedly joyous occasion had grown somber, and tears were still present on their cheeks when my convulsions began. As my vision promised, the carriage was painless and my nursemaid was shocked at the ease of which my first and only child passed into this world.

As I felt him leave the folds of my body, I noticed quiet murmurings and quickly exchanged glances; there was no joyful smile from the nursemaid, who looked terribly bewildered and concerned. She turned from me and whispered something I was unable to hear to a young stable boy, who immediately nodded and took off, running as if the world was to end.

Xxx

"May I hold him?" Madeline asked, concern and confusion coloring her voice, her forehead wrinkled in consternation; what could possibly be wrong that she would be denied her baby?

"Madame…" the nursemaid's hesitant reply only increased the young mother's anxiety, and she reached out her arms, insisting upon the embrace of her newborn child.

"Madame...I do not think it is wise to act until the doctor returns…"

Pain and confusion entered Madeline's gaze, and she was silent for a moment, almost too afraid to ask.

Finally, in a hushed whisper, she said, "Does my child live?" The nursemaid nodded, and the young woman drew a short breath. It could not be so terrible then, yet why…?

At this moment, there was a loud bang from the level below and quick footfalls up the steps. A graying man carrying a large black bag stepped briskly into the chamber followed by the winded boy, whose labored breathing filled the otherwise silent room.

The doctor stated efficiently, "Let me see the child."

The nursemaid handed over the bundle at once, and gazed sympathetically at Madeline, who looked for all the world quite slighted. After a long silence, the doctor sighed, and stated the circumstances to the tense audience.

"This is a rare case, Madame. Your child—it is a boy—was born with a thin membrane over the majority of the right half of his face. It is thin and porous, so he can breathe quite easily, yet I would strongly suggest you let me operate upon him as soon as possible to remove the membrane—preferably at this moment. The longer one waits in instances such as these, the more likely scars will be left as the membrane thickens. Delay will also put your child at risk for partial blindness, due to the lack of use of his eyes."

This being said, he studied the shocked mother patiently as the rest of the attendants remained silent.

"Very well then, Doctor. Yet I prefer not to watch." Madeline's voice quivered, but her gaze was steady.

"Understood, Madame."

The servants hastily drew the dark curtains around their Mistress' coverlets, and immediately returned to circle around the doctor to better observe the operation, save for a few young maids who rushed away whispering about their fears of knives and blood.

The doctor drew a scalpel from his bag and, after wiping the surface of the membrane clean, made the first incision. Bright red flowed from the cut and the newborn uttered his first cry. The doctor waited for the cries to settle, then persisted. In this fashion, he managed to sever away most the extraneous skin near the border of the malformation, though it still rested upon the infant's face. With a final cut, he ignored the infant's pained cries and peeled away the membrane.

It was then that the screams began.

Xxx

**A/N: So how was the different take on his birth?! Drop me a review please—they totally make my day and inspire me to update faster!!! **


	7. It Was All Lies

**Sorry, sorry! I've been so busy. I know this is short, and it hasn't run through my beta yet, but I just wanted to post it because I didn't want you all to think that I died. So…if you're still reading…(please?) review and let me know what you think!!**

_-Erik-_

The pain of memories! How could such a small book cause me such tides of regret! You have not forgotten I hope, dear reader, about Christine's diary? As the candles grow shorter, shadows longer, for a moment, I do not wish to be shrouded by night.

Curse the day I first drew breath! For even with my birth I was a murderer…

The doctor, the poor ignorant doctor!

He believed himself doing well, a saint for salvaging my face from what appeared to be nothing more than a thin membrane, a rare, if not purely boring procedure. Well even the greatest of fools learn that all the worst of things are hidden by the simplest guises.

There was blood, of course. Yet even the tremendous amount of blood did little to hide the obvious. Then there were screams. Sudden, frenzied, screams. A wonderful reception into this world, wouldn't you agree? And though I did not know how to express it then, I could not bear the sheer ugliness of those screams.

So I cried.

_-Madeline-_

What absolute terror! All I heard were screams; panicked screeching—they were not a babe's cries. Then, amongst the pandemonium, I heard a dull, sickening thud, and there was silence. A horrified gasp—and hushed whispers. Frenzied footsteps passed my sheltered bed and I heard a whispered name.

_Marie…_

_Marie…_

_Marie…_

What of the aging maid had attracted such attention? She had never been one for talk, and judging by her age, she never would. A weak heart and labored breathing—no, the years had not been kind to her. Charles kept her out of pity, and repentance for the work of her youth. I did not know much of her, a superstitious one, I recalled vaguely.

I learned later that she had fallen. She had been standing near the nursemaid—feeling duty bound to watch all that transpired between the doctor and my child…

They swear that not a sound issued from her lips—only that her eyes rolled back and her body crumpled.

She never rose.

_-Erik-_

With my birth, I had killed. My entrance into the world secured the departure of another. How can anyone else feel the guilt that weighs my every step? I didn't always understand. Now I wish I never did.

The first two years of my existence were blissfully ignorant. The home where Madeline kept me was my world, and the mask that I wore was my face. I was dumbly led to believe that all children wore masks—that my mask was no different.

The small white garment that was dutifully tied to my face each morning—I thought nothing of. My mother was undeniably beautiful—however distant she may have been. I dreamed of becoming beautiful one day too.

Sometimes, I recall that she would fall in inexplicably good humor, and sang to me, told me stories even. One day, I asked her to tell me how children changed. How they lost their masks and became beautiful…


End file.
